Innocence You Left Behind
by Krusader
Summary: [OneShot] Dean stands by her side, arm around her waist, hand resting on her hip. She's surprised that Sam was able to convince him to come here, Disneyland, of all places. DeanJo.


**Innocence You Left Behind  
**_Dean and Jo_

**Disclaimer:** I don't own them.  
**Notes:** Muchos gracias to CJ for the awesome idea.

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Jo squints against the blazing sun, the heat radiating from the railing she's leaning against. Dean stands by her side; arm around her waist, hand resting on her hip. She's surprised that Sam was able to convince him to come here – _Disneyland_ – of all places. He had argued that they earned a vacation and the dog days of summer, when it's too hot for even the damned hellions to stir up trouble, would be the perfect opportunity. Dean had protested.

But Dean always has been a sucker for Sam's sad puppy face.

Jo reminds herself to ask Sam how he does it. It could be quite handy for future reference where Dean Winchester is concerned.

"Sam's missing all the fun," Dean says, noting how the line they're in hasn't moved at all since they jumped in it.

"I wonder what's taking him so long." Jo shields her eyes from the sun and peers out through the crowd. She doesn't notice him among the groups of people milling about; standing nearly a head taller than the average person, he's bound to stick out.

"Maybe he bumped into some hot chick." Dean gets that goofy grin he normally wears when he tries to get his brother laid.

"Go Sammy," Jo replies, Dean's trademark cocky smile spreading across her features. Spending so much time with the Winchesters, their ways were bound to rub off sooner or later.

Dean's hand moves to the small of her back, lingering for a moment and then dipping under the waistband of her jeans. His eyes light up at what he finds; or rather, _doesn't_.

"Uh… Jo…" Dean starts, grinning like an idiot when she looks up at him. "Forget something this morning?"

She snickers. "Like what?"

"_You know_." He bends down and places his lips on hers for a quick kiss.

"You know, I can't seem to remember," Jo breathes, pulling him back down. "_Show me_," she orders against his lips.

Dean pauses, glancing at the people around them. "Right now?"

Jo nods, biting her bottom lip like she always does when she's up to no good.

Dean has to summon every ounce of self-restraint to say no to that face. "Dude, can't it wait?"

"_You're_ saying no to sex?" She steps into him. "Don't tell me you're losing your touch, Deano."

He starts to protest when he feels her hand against his groin. He's left in a momentary state of shock and arousal before, "Let's ditch."

They duck under the railing and head for a small building hidden in the background of the bustling park. Dean leads her through a door marked _Private_, pushing her against the wall as soon as the door clicks shut. She latches her hand on his head, pulls him closer. His tongue plummets into her mouth. He slides his hand down her back and under the hem of her jeans, her skin hot against his palm.

Jo runs her hands under the front of his shirt, slender fingers tracing along his chest, following the curves of his muscles, stopping briefly over the rigid shapes of the scars embedded in his stomach. She tugs his shirt over his head and drops it at their feet. Lips on his neck, knee squeezing between her thighs, she's leaving hot, wet kisses down his chest as he pushes into her crotch.

Her shirt joins his on the floor and Dean cups her breast, brushing his thumb over her nipple through the fabric of her bra. Anxious to feel his callouses against her soft skin, she unlatches her bra and lets it slide down her shoulders. He captures her lips with his for only a moment, trailing down her throat to her chest, over her breast until he takes her hard nipple in his mouth.

She hisses when his tongue makes quick, short jabs, sending jolts down her spine as she arches into him. His erection presses against her thigh and she grinds against him, shivering when he grunts against her breast.

_Fuck_, he's good with his tongue.

She buries her face in his short hair, breathing open-mouthed against the smell of sex lingering in the air around them. His tongue makes lazy circles around her nipple; she feels as if she's going to lose it already but then _goddamn_, his hand rolls over her other breast and she shrieks so loud she almost thinks she came in her pants.

He chuckles low in his throat. Her head falls back against the concrete wall and her breathing is already erratic.

"What's the matter, Harvelle? _Too much_?"

Teeth nip at the tip of her nipple and she emits a low, guttural moan. Pleased with himself, Dean does it again, harder this time. Her fingers claw at his back and she bites into her lower lip; a little too hard, if the taste of blood in her mouth is any indication.

"Easy there, cowgirl. You don't want the ride to end before it even starts, do you?" Dean growls, kissing her lip and wiping away the gathering blood.

"Like you're one to talk, Winchester."

Jo places a hand on the bulge in his jeans and grips it firmly. Dean groans against her jaw. She tightens her hold and he has to fight the urge to dig into her lip. He kisses her roughly, a scrape of teeth and barely audible mutters of obscenities. Jo strokes him through the denim and he pushes harder against her thigh.

"_Now_," he groans.

"What about… _god_, Dean!" The fastenings on her jeans are torn open and his fingers are working their way into her slick folds.

"No time," Dean replies through clenched teeth, referring to her unspoken inquiry about protection.

Her jeans get worked down to her ankles and she steps out of them only to have Dean spin her to face the wall. His own jeans fall to his knees and she hears what sounds to be spitting before he slips his spit-slick cock into her from behind.

She squints at first, trying to relax into the rhythm he's settling on, her palms against the wall and head bent forward as she grits her teeth against the pain. He gently massages her shoulders, almost as if to comfort her before she eases against his body. He places kisses along the curve of her spine, thrusting harder and slowly increasing his pace.

"_Fuck_, Dean," she pants, fists pushing against the wall until they turn white.

"That's what I'm doing," he whispers against her ear. She can almost feel him grinning against her neck.

_Smart-ass_.

He pumps harder, her low moans mingling with his. He moves his lips to the curve of her neck and shoulder, leaving a wet kiss before sitting his chin against her. He brushes his cheek against hers, moving down, stubble grazing over her throat. He knows how it drives her wild. She bucks back to meet his thrusts and he digs his fingers into her hips so hard she'll no doubt have bruises in the morning.

Fingers blazing down her stomach, he reaches between her thighs. She shakes under his touch and urges him not to stop, to keep going, _dammit_.

He circles the spot she wants it most, a mixture of fast and slow, drawing out a silent cry. He teases her, coming closer until he finally presses his index finger against her clit. She throws her head forward, hitting the wall with a slight thud, hot sweat smearing the cold concrete. He rubs against her, slow and hard, before he delves two fingers deep within her. Her knees start to shake as he thrusts, fast and hard from behind and just as forceful with his fingers.

_Christ_, he's fucking her both ways and she feels as if her head will fall from her shoulders if it wasn't being pushed into the wall. He cups her breast with his free hand and pulls her back against his chest, the heat and sweat of their bodies intensifying. The cool amulet against her back sends a chill through her body right before her climax explodes; her heart beating so fast it threatens to come out of her chest.

She feels him tense, grunting as he comes against the back of her thigh. His hot breath is damp against her neck and he runs his palms down her shivering back, wrapping around her waist and hugging her close. She goes limp in his arms and he supports her spent body as her knees buckle from beneath her.

"Think you can walk outta here?" Dean asks, slightly amused, breathing against the back of her ear with the sweet smell of her shampoo and hot sex drifting to his nose.

"_Dude_," Jo sighs. "I won't be walking for at least a week."

Dean softly kisses her throat. "We should probably go find Sam."

Jo nods weakly. He releases his embrace, standing close until she gets her balance and starts gathering up her clothes. She's in the middle of tugging her jeans back on when light and the sound of people having a good time floods the room. Jo hurries to cover herself up, snatching her shirt from the floor and pulling it over her head. Dean steps in front of her, blocking the security guard's view while Jo adjusts herself.

"What's this?" the guard asks, incredulousness evident as he noticed Dean's half-nakedness.

"We were just on our way out," Dean replies, flashing him one of those grins that just screams _up to no good_.

"I'm going to have to ask you to vacate the Magic Kingdom. Immediately."

Dean laughs half-nervously. "Okay then."

He grabs up his shirt, pulling it on as Jo fumbles with the button on her jeans. She makes to follow him outside, hastily grabbing up her almost-forgotten bra and stuffing it in one of her pockets. They are escorted through the masses of people toward the exit.

Sam comes running up behind, a look of confusion toying with the features on his face.

"What happened to you two?"

"Nothin' much," Dean answers, shifting a sly look Jo's way.

"Really?" Sam knows better by now. Jo's swollen lip and the brush burns on her forehead from rubbing against the rough concrete don't get past him. "Then why does Jo look excited to see me?" He glances at the thin fabric that does nothing to hide the remnants of her arousal.

Jo blushes, crossing her arms over her chest. "We got bored. Decided to make up our own ride."

"Sorry you missed out, Sammy," Dean remarks, grinning at Jo as he drapes an arm around her shoulders.


End file.
